InsaneJournal

Every year Hecate threw a party for the fall equinox.

This year came with a wariness that her mind should be focused on the search for the soul eater hunting through her city. There were, however, already mechanisms in place – her close knit family of staff and regulars from her witchy shop in Astoria were all eager to help, the party being part of their annual rituals as well. The Enodia was always booked out for the night of the equinox, every year since she opened. It would have been almost as much trouble to cancel it – it certainly would have disappointed more people.

Conversation around the shop and within the hotel had centered around an anxious fall, most of the mortals she spoke to were looking toward the near future with dread and cynicism, she wouldn’t darken their days further by canceling a night of celebration. A night of change.

And the equinox should be marked. The earth at equilibirum, the seasons turning toward winter, gratitude given to the earth for the bounty of the summer. No, canceling would be wrong, in so many ways.

So Hecate delegated a little more of the organisation than she ordinarily would have, and concentrated on maintaining the protection around herself, around Qebhet and Anubis, their homes and the funeral home. The Enodia, too, received stronger wards than before, with more layers of magic woven across each doorway.

She turned her head three ways. One toward the soul eater. One toward the protection of everyone who stepped through her doors. One toward the celebration of the equinox itself.

This last one involved many things, gratitude toward the earth and care of neglected people not being the least of them. She rose at dawn to greet the day, and rolled up her sleeves to get stuck in to overseeing the delivery of large amounts of food to several of the homeless shelters around the city. She attended a huge lunch at a youth centre and an afternoon tea at a woman’s shelter, weaving blessings into the food. The shelter often referred women to her, cases that for one reason or another needed a little more protection than most. The youth centre was new, set up by a couple of women who'd left the shelter several years ago. Hecate smiled at the circular nature of the best parts of humanity and poured them all blessed cups of tea.

And she slept. A lot. Deeply. The equinox was a time of great power for her, but she was using so much of it up. The night itself, though... this would be a night of joy and celebration, of power and magic, of mortals and immortals on even ground, as equilibrium, as the earth was.

And anyone who threatened that equilibrium Hecate was going to turn into a sparrow.



The entrance hall was a place of welcome, decorated in colours of fall. Long tables were adorned with food, small cakes sweetened with honey, squares of cornbread, seed crackers and cheese, pomegranate everywhere. Candles and golden leaves, grapes and apples. And wine, endless wine and sparkling cider, deep red bowls of punch with freshly sliced fruit floating on top. Freshly pressed apple juice and pomegranate cordial, very lightly fermented, enough for a little spritz on the tongue.

There was more food, further in. Heavier fare, soups and roast meat and root vegetables, and desserts: hot apples pies, cool maple pumpkin pies, fresh whipped cream. Platters of tarts; spiced cherry and strawberry, vegan passionfruit and chocolate, mango and macadamia. All laid out on platters in a buffet in the hotel’s dining room; the entrance hall was just for starters.

Further up, one of the conference rooms had turned into the chocolate room, full of warm squishy couches, a ring of beanbags around a low table set with a fondue, the little tealight candle burning merrily away, keeping the chocolate hot. At a longer table, three cauldrons of hot chocolate – one creamy, one dark, one heavily alcoholic.

And light, light everywhere. Light in the form of candles and chandeliers, of delicate fairylights woven through vines, up the balustrades of staircases. Trees of light growing in shadowy corners. In the chocolate room, light from lamps that resembled the moon, soft and cool light, a little mysterious and very cozy. Along the hallways the usually fluorescent lights were off, replaced with rivers of tiny twinkling lights upon the ceiling, rivulets dripping down the walls.

Some of the rooms had been booked out by party guests who wanted to stay the night, but others were open, little oasis of relative quiet. The music from the ballroom – an eclectic mix of ancient, classical and modern – wound its way through all the open rooms, by magic, or possibly the magic of clever wiring.

The ball room was the most magical of all, the ceiling adorned with constellations of light. Yet still, it was a room of shadows, as everyone who entered seemed to cast three. Shadows clung in the corners and shadows clung around ankles and shadows wove and danced their way through god and mortal alike. The refreshment table glowed with golden light, twinkling off the bubbles in the glasses of champagne and sparkling grape juice. More grapes, more pomegranate, more handmade chocolate truffles among the candles.

Starting tomorrow Hecate was going to sleep for a week. Or hunt for a week. Or... she was leaving the third option open.

Tonight the world began to shift toward the dark of winter. Anything could happen.

Except trouble. Except harm. “If anyone causes harm tonight,” Hecate said, laying her hand on Hecuba’s head (the black dog in a golden collar, to match the black and gold of Hecate’s dress) “I’m going to turn them into a sparrow.”

Hecuba turned her head toward the puppy, who had discovered one of the cushions from the chocolate room and was tearing it to shreds on the shiny floor of the entrance hall, foam flying as she shook the pillow to break its neck. “Serene,” Hecate said sharply. She coaxed the pillow from the puppy’s strong jaw, and quickly, while no one was looking, put the cushion back together with a clever wave of her hand.

“If anyone causes harm to anything more than a pillow,” Hecate changed her phrasing, though Hecuba did not look satisfied. “Sparrow.”